


Absit

by generallou



Series: IVB. (xingdae) [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Aka nothing is real, Alternate Universe - Priests, Drabble, Inaccurate Catholicism, Inspired by the Nun, It's all an imaginary manifestation of Yixing's fantasy, Jongdae is a priest-in-training, M/M, Possibly Blasphemy, Religious Conflict, Religious Horror, The devil is real though, Yixing is a priest, Yixing vs the Devil, religious inaccuracy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-16 22:57:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21279125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/generallou/pseuds/generallou
Summary: Yixing feels his own soul inching closer and closer to hell with every second he spends facing the devil.





	Absit

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Contains major elements of noncon BUT nothing actually happens. It is implied that the imagery was manifested because of Yixing's own desires and fantasies. The Xingdae as priests AU that no one asked for. 
> 
> This fic has given me a label: Terrible person.

_ Deus hic finit. _The space echoes.

No matter how many times Yixing squints, still, his surroundings remain as dark as ever; not a single glimmer of light and Yixing's heart nearly drops upon realization of this pure blackness. _Which way from here?_ He swallows the lump in his throat, before he finally asks the question he fears; _ Is there a way from here? _ Yixing prays to himself, and the weight in his chest lightens, even if it's little and brief, and only ever so slightly. 

There's a sound to his left. His breath hitches when he is met with a sudden glare of light. His own breath calms not long later, and that's when he hears the _ sounds _ . Skin slapping against skin, harsh, little breaths, and a choked out moan that sounds eerily similar to a voice that Yixing swore he's only ever heard from a certain person. He envisions the prettiest pair of lips in his head, and that's when he hears whatever's going on at the other side pick up with speed. The moans grow needier, _ louder _ , wet sounds echoing throughout the space until Yixing finally sees _ it. _A silhouette hunched over a smaller frame trapped in between its' arms, a pair of legs thrown and draped loosely around the hovering figure's shoulders, parted wider with every lewd sound he hears.

"S-Stop… P-please," one of them whimpers, and Yixing has to wonder why it sounds so familiar, and so _ sweet _to his ears. "Yixing g-ge, help… Help me," he hears it plea; there, he sees its' face, and he feels himself stiffen, breath nearly stolen by the sight that meets him.

Yixing does not expect to meet eyes with his apprentice, not here, so far down from the sunlight (and from God); His sweet bright-eyed _dear _ apprentice, beautiful and _ helpless _ , pinned underneath a dark figure. Beads of sweat trail down from his forehead, lips quivering in fear as he's forced to take _and _take every harsh thrust, while Yixing is forced to watch, paralyzed to his spot. Jongdae's whimpers grow in volume and in pitch; the prettiest sounds he's ever heard, as if they're not the very things dragging him closer and closer to eternal damnation. "Why aren't you helping me, ge?" Jongdae says pitifully, in between tearful hiccups, "Was this what you wanted?"

And Yixing finds that he can't deny. Something roars from behind him, low and angry, and he doesn't know how to tell whether it's a demon or one of God's own monsters, sent from Heaven to warn him of the extent of his sin, to remind him that this _ isn't _ right. Yixing knows how fucked up this is, how damned he must be. 

_I know what you dreamed about last night._

"Pure, little Jongdae," a scratchy voice bellows, dark and ominous, and Yixing realizes that it's coming from the figure on top of Jongdae, "Sweet, dear autumn's child. Isn't he pretty like this?"

Yixing grips at the cross hung loosely around his neck. He can tell that this isn't real, and this Jongdae, _ that _ Jongdae, is nothing but a mere figment of his imagination; a projection made by the devil that's entered his head (the _ real _Jongdae is sound asleep in his own chambers.) The devil dives as deep as it can, pokes at his darkest fantasies and twists them into their ugliest forms, but Yixing knows better than to fall any deeper than he's already fallen. Maybe it doesn't help how dark it is, and it certainly doesn't help that Yixing's aware of his position. 

_ Deus hic finit. _ He hears it say again, whispers sounding dangerously close, the voice of the Father of Lies. He thumbs at the metallic cross over his chest; "Saint Michael, the Archangel," he starts. The Image-Jongdae wails. It doesn't sound very lovely anymore. Then again, _was it ever meant to be?_ "Defend us in battle. Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil." Against the devil, there's no room for shame nor fear. Simply acceptance, the promise of sincere atonement, and faith.

**Author's Note:**

> Absit (Latin) - God save me (Ecclesiastical term.)  
Deus hic finit (Latin) - God ends here.  
The prayer recited at the end was the 'Prayer to Saint Michael.'


End file.
